


Wavering Eyes

by GregXB



Category: Gargoyles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-29 18:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GregXB/pseuds/GregXB
Summary: The Whip of Mab: Whoever wields it is said to gain the powers of the Nightmare Queen herself. But when it falls into Demona's talons, the only ones who can stop her are a severely undermanned Redemption Squad. Can they overcome their own demons before she makes her worst dreams for the Manhattan Clan come true?





	1. Chapter 1

**Wavering Eyes**

 

**New York City, May 3 rd, 2001.**

 

“How much longer can we afford to wait until the police do something?” John Castaway shouted, standing behind the podium, and grinning as he took in his audience. “Everywhere these creatures appear, chaos follows in their wake! If you wish to truly protect yourselves, join the Quarrymen!”

 

As the crowd erupted in applause, Goliath solemnly perched on a nearby rooftop.

 

“Let’s get out of here, Goliath.” Angela placed a comforting hand on his cloaked wing.

 

“She’s right,” said Brooklyn as he kneeled beside his leader. “We’re doing ourselves no favors by listening to this guy’s garbage.”

 

“You’re right.” Goliath stood back up. “We will finish our patrol of the village, and then you are both dismissed for the evening.”

 

“Calling it a night early, eh?” Brooklyn grinned and tilted his eye towards Angela. “You know what that means, right?”

 

“You and Elisa want to be alone,” Angela smiled.

 

“Yes, well...” Goliath tried not to blush. Instead, he strode towards the ledge opposite Castaway’s rally and took off into the air. Brooklyn and Angela quickly followed.

 

As the gargoyles soared south into Greenwich Village, things began to quiet down. People were either in their homes or heading home. Most stores were closed, and restaurants were in the process of sending their last patrons home so their employees could join them.

 

A black van was idling in front of a fairly well-known all-night General Store as two men in ski-masks piled out.

 

“Looks like somebody is about to cause trouble,” Angela said, pointing towards the would-be-thieves.

 

“I know this store,” said Goliath as they landed on the rooftop across the street. “The owner is a friend of Bluestone’s.”

 

“Then let’s give him the best protection a gargoyle can provide,” Brooklyn said, his eye glowing.

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“Now, just finish emptying the register, old man, and nobody will get shot,” the man in the black ski-mask said, as he pointed a pump-loaded shotgun at Mr. Jaffe’s head.

“Fine, fine.” Jaffe opened the register and emptied it into the sack. “Just take it and get out of my store.”

The man in the blue ski-mask sighed. “Bag is a bit light tonight,” he muttered.

“No prob,” said Black Mask. He then turned his shotgun on the four customers, who were currently holding their hands over their heads. “You’re going to make up the rest of this old man’s share. Wallets, watches, jewelry, cell phones... put ‘em in the bag.”

The shop went dark as the lights were suddenly cut. The hoodlums grouped together as Black Mask readied his gun. The sounds of ominous breathing and growling filled the room. Black Mask cried out as his gun was suddenly whipped from his hand.

The glowing white eyes of Goliath briefly illuminated the store as he grabbed Black Mask by the head and threw him against a shelf.

Blue gasped and his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in as he ran towards the door. But the glowing red eyes of Angela lit up on his right as she grabbed him by the collar of his coat and threw him behind the counter.

The lights came back on as Brooklyn emerged from the backroom. “It’s okay, everyone is safe,” he said.

But Mr. Jaffe gasped in fear and grabbed Black Mask’s discarded shotgun. He then pointed it straight at Goliath’s throat. “Get out of my store, monster,” Jaffe said... the fear practically dripping from his mouth.

“Please, understand that we only wanted to help.” Goliath stepped backwards, practically pleading. His eyes widened in shock as he noticed Jaffe’s customers trembling in fear.

“Get out,” he said, as he cocked the shot gun and stepped between his customers and the gargoyles.

“We should get going,” Brooklyn suggested. Angela nodded in agreement.

Goliath sighed dejectedly, and followed the other two gargoyles out. They quickly scaled the building outside, and caught an air current. Taking off northward, they landed on a rooftop after clearing the General Store by a few blocks.

“You took that harder than usual,” said Brooklyn.

“Does that man mean something to you?” Angela asked.

“That man is the reason I took an oath to protect this city and all who dwelt within,” said Goliath. He hung his head in shame. “His courage to serve the community that needed him reawakened my sense of purpose.”

“Goliath, you know that we’re taking this one night at time,” Brooklyn said, placing a comforting hand on his leader’s shoulder.

“Sometimes I wonder if it will ever make a difference.” Goliath he cloaked his wings around himself in shame. “Are we doing any good for this city? For ourselves?”

“Goliath...” Angela said, before adding, “Father. You saved the world. You can’t believe that you haven’t done any good in this world.”

“All you had to do was stand back and Demona would have made our lives much easier,” said Brooklyn. “Of course that would have meant sacrificing everything we hold dear. But, hey, it would have been an easy path to a nightmarish peace.”

“You are right,” said Goliath. “Both of you. But he is a good man and I had hoped for a different response.”

“Go see Elisa,” said Angela. “Enjoy the remainder of the evening.”

“That’s the right idea,” Brooklyn said, grinning. “You two have fun, send Elisa our love”

Goliath smiled before standing up. “See you both tomorrow night,” he said before taking to the air and heading towards Soho.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Paris, May 4 th**

 

Beneath the Eiffel Tower, the concrete, the bedrock, the Squad’s HQ was alive as support staff maintained their various vehicles in the hanger. On the other side of the HQ, all five members of the Redemption Squad dodged live rounds as they ran their obstacle course.

 

“The next mission is coming sooner than you think,” Hunter cried while narrowly avoiding a particle beam. “I promise you.”

 

“Yeah, I know, sheila,” Dingo snapped as he darted behind a sub-machine gun. “But God’s sake, even back in my Pack days, our traps weren’t lethal.”

 

“Are you telling me you can’t handle it?” Hunter grinned as she threw an explosive star at the particle beam.

 

“Perhaps it would be logical if I were to remove the threat,” said Matrix as he expanded and covered each of the mounted firearms, then absorbed them into his mass.

 

“You couldn’t have done that sooner?” Dingo said, leaving himself an opening for Hunter’s fist to connect with his jaw.

 

“What was that for?!” Dingo cried.

 

“In our line of work, even a teammate can turn on us,” said Hunter. “Don’t think for even a moment that the Illuminati can’t compromise this team any time.”

 

On the other side of the training room, Fang fired his electro-blasts at ceiling-mounted machine guns. “Ain’t no gun that’s a faster draw than me,” he grinned.

 

Two more ceiling-mounted machine guns remained. With lightning-fast reflexes, Yama threw a shuriken at one, taking it out. Then he darted out of the way of more gunfire from the remaining mount.

 

“Hey, Yama, the sooner we finish the sooner we eat!” Fang cried. “And the sooner we eat, the sooner we go on our next mission, and the sooner you can go home and make sweet love to that special sweetheart you’ve got waiting for you! Unless I get there first and show her what a good time actually is!”

 

Yama’s eyes burned white, and displaying his reflexes again, destroyed the machine gun with a throw that was so quick, Fang didn’t see Yama even reach for the second shuriken. Nor did he see Yama draw his katana and hold it to the Mutate’s throat.

 

“Yama, whatcha doin’!” Dingo cried as he got back to his feet.

 

Hunter ran to the control panel and deactivated the obstacle course. As all of the weapons powered down, she wiped away the sweat from her brow above her mask, and turned to address the team. “All right, everyone take a shower, get something to eat and meet me in the conference room in thirty minutes.”

 

Dingo and Fang exited the training room while Matrix melted into a puddle and seemed to vanish into the ventilation system. As Yama began to follow, Hunter placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Not you,” she said.

 

“Fang’s words were vile and have no place on this team,” Yama growled.

 

“Fang is an essential part of this team,” said Hunter. “And on any mission there is a chance that your enemy will make things personal, to try to throw you off of your game. As such, he is in fact, the perfect training partner for you.”

 

“A team also cannot operate without trust,” Yama snapped. “And none of us trust him.”

 

“But we work effectively with him,” Hunter retorted. “All of us except for you. And I will not have you attacking any of your teammates without my say-so.”

 

“You attacked Dingo!”

 

“I was making a point,” said Hunter. “I was not trying to murder him because he offended my delicate sensibilities.”

 

“But Fang…!”

 

“I do not care how much you two despise each other,” Hunter cut him off. “Your job is to work together as a unit. And if you cannot do that, if this continues to effect this team during a critical mission, then I promise that you and your clan will pay the price for it.”

 

Yama’s mouth fell open. “After all this time, you cannot...”

 

“Am I absolutely crystal clear?” Hunter spoke through gritted teeth.

 

“Hai,” Yama muttered.

 

“Meet me in the conference room in twenty-eight minutes,” Hunter said as she exited the training room and headed towards the women’s locker room.

 

Yama sheathed his sword and stormed off. Passing the men’s locker room and making his way towards the service elevator. He pressed ‘Up’ and within moments found himself topside. Twenty-six minutes to get some air, clear his thoughts, and return to his team.

 

As he soared over the city, the cool wind on his face did little to alleviate his anger. Fang, he expected this from. But Hunter? He growled. Given what he had heard about her family’s history, it should not have surprised him. They might work well together, but he was a Tengu… a gargoyle and she a gargoyle-slayer.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of sirens. His eyes followed the flashing lights of the Parisian police cars. They were on their way to the Louvre. He had ten minutes until he needed to be at Hunter’s conference. He growled; she could wait. He could do some actual good for someone and blow off some steam.

 

He glided towards the Louvre and landed on the roof. The rooftop door had already been smashed open earlier. He drew his sword and approached it when he heard the familiar sound of a gargoyle’s growl. A female gargoyle’s growl.

 

Before he could take another step, a gargoyle darted out of the stairwell, running on all fours. She stood up and Yama gasped as he took her in. She was carrying a heavy particle beam rifle, slung over her shoulder, and a coiled whip at her belt. Blue skin, red hair, contempt on her otherwise beautiful face. The female matched the description he had heard shortly after joining the team.

 

Demona’s eyes widened when she saw him. “Who are you?” she asked. But before any other words could be exchanged, a police helicopter shined a search light on them, and bullets rained down between the two gargoyles.

 

The arrival of a second police helicopter signaled even more gun fire. The two gargoyles dodged the blasts, and Demona raised her particle beam and fired back, hitting the first chopper in the tail.

 

Yama gasped and took to the air; circling around to assist the falling copter, he breathed a sigh of relief as it landed relatively safely on top of the Louvre. The sound of a banshee-like cry on the wind signaled Demona’s departure.

 

Yama took off in pursuit, but she was already several hundred feet away. His anger at Hunter forgotten, he clicked the radio in his ear. “Yama to Hunter, respond?”

 

“Where are you?” Hunter asked; if she had been angry earlier, it didn’t register in her voice. She was all business. “I know you left the base!”

 

“I spotted the rogue gargoyle called Demona,” Yama replied. “She must have stolen something from the Louvre. She shot down a police helicopter, and escaped. Should I return to base?”

 

“Negative!” Hunter said. “This could be our best chance to nail the demon!” Yama twitched at her use of the word. “Stay on her!”

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Hunter ended the call, her own eye twitching behind her mask as Dingo, Fang, and Matrix entered the conference room.

“So where is _‘Sir’_ sending us this time?” Dingo asked. “Hopefully some place tropical.”

“Geraldine FitzGerald has just escaped,” Hunter said as her face appeared on the screen behind her. “You three are going to put her back in her cage.”

“Us three?” Dingo said. “What about you and Yama?”

“I have my own mission,” Hunter said. “Yama will be assisting me.”

“All right!” Fang cried. “Just us guys, no chick and no stick-in-the-mud to dull things up.”

Dingo glanced over at Hunter, silently pleading to not be left alone with just Fang and Matrix. But Hunter merely pointed at the door. “You have five minutes to be on board the _Redemption V._ ”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Yama growled as Demona’s silhouette disappeared into the distance. He activated his comm-link once more. “Hunter, I have lost the target.”

 

“It’s all right,” Hunter replied. “Did she spot you?”

 

“She did,” said Yama. “My apologies for not maintaining my secrecy.”

 

“Return to the general vicinity of the Louvre and wait there until I tell you otherwise,”

 

“Might I ask why?” Yama sighed.

 

“The demon is very lonely,” said Hunter. “A new gargoyle will intrigue her. She will return tomorrow night, and when she does you will ingratiate yourself with her, and then we’ll strike.”

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**The Quarryman Brownstone**

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Mr. Jaffe said, sitting in a comfortable chair opposite John Castaway. “Matt Bluestone is a friend of mine, he runs the Gargoyle Taskforce, maybe I should have gone to him.”

“I believe that Bluestone, in his heart, is a good and well-intentioned man,” said Castaway as he sipped his mug of coffee. “But he does not take the gargoyle threat seriously.”

“Castaway, I don’t want to bullshit you, but those hoods your men wear creep me out,” Jaffe declared. “I know you’re not an American but you couldn’t have failed to grasp what hoods like that stand for in this country.”

“When you entered the brownstone tonight, what did you see?” Castaway asked.

“Quarrymen,” Jaffe replied.

“Were they wearing their hoods?”

“No,” Jaffe admitted.

“So what did you see?” Castaway asked a second time.

“Men and women,” said Jaffe. “White, black, Hispanic, Asian...”

“We welcome everyone into the Quarrymen from all races and creeds,” said Castaway. “We are nothing if not a humanist organization.”

“But those hoods...”

“A hood is not evil in and of itself. Tell me,” Castaway said cutting him off. “Why do your pop culture heroes wear masks? Batman or Spider-Man for example? Clark Kent’s glasses?”

“I’m not really a comic book guy,” Jaffe said. “My grandkids loved that X-Men movie last summer, though.”

“They wear their masks to protect their loved ones,” said Castaway. He leaned forward in his chair. “The comparison with the hoods worn by the Ku Klux Klan wasn’t lost on me. But I won’t let a fiendish organization like that stop me from using masks to protect those I care about, or for my friends in the Quarrymen to protect their families.

“Mr. Jaffe,” Castaway continued. “We are fighting an insidious menace. And not just them, but the terrorists that support them like the ‘People United for Interspecies Rights’. We also contribute to charities that help those around the country and the world battle oppression. We are a human rights organization first and foremost.”

“That’s all well and good,” Jaffe said. “But I’m still not sure about any of this.”

“Give us a try,” Castaway said as he rose from his chair, went to his closet, kneeling in front of a cardboard box. From it, he produced a black hood and returned to Jaffe, placing it in the older man’s hands. “You’ll find friends here, and a community that will help you to better serve yours.”

Mr. Jaffe hesitated, then stuffed the hood into his jacket pocket and reached forward to shake John Castaway’s hand.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Chambly, France**

Several kilometers outside of Paris, Demona passed over vast farmland before soaring across the dozens of acres that made up the land of her chateau. She had bought this land, and the house, decades ago, and as she gracefully alighted on the ground outside a large ring of mushrooms, she knew the investment would be worth it.

As she strode towards her gothic chateau, she heard the welcome sound of a familiar howling and smiled as her beast, Hellhound bounded out of the woods to greet her. She kneeled down, and lovingly stroked his crimson mane with her left hand, while her right continued to grip her particle beam cannon.

“Thank you for guarding our home, my pet,” she tenderly said, then scratched behind his ear. “You must be famished.” She stood back on her feet and, instead of heading towards the house, she detoured out towards a small, decaying barn. “How about a fast dinner before sunrise?”

Demona unlocked the doors and strutted inside, towards the sound of a harsh and fearful whimpering. Three humans sat on a large bench, their ankles shackled to the ground. She smiled sadistically as she looked them over. She then settled on a well-muscled young blond man and unlocked his shackles.

“If you can escape this property alive, I will not hunt you down,” she said, her lips tightening into a sadistic smirk. She gestured towards the open door.

The blond man looked at her, then looked at the remaining two captives: a dark-haired Romany woman, and a shout, stout red-headed man. He then looked away, to hide his shame, and bolted out of the doors and towards the woods.

Demona emerged from the barn, locking the doors behind her as Hellhound darted out from behind the barn and began to chase the young man down. As she watched, her cellphone buzzed. She unclipped it from her belt and answered.

“Brother, I have news,” Demona said. “After I stole the whip, I spotted a new gargoyle. One that I have never seen before.”

“Is there an unknown clan in Paris?” Coldsteel asked, from the other end of the line.

“There are no clans in mainland Europe,” she replied bitterly. “Not anymore.”

“Perhaps a rogue, then,” Coldsteel suggested. “A new recruit to your cause?”

“Potentially,” Demona said, as her lip pulled back into a smirk. “Do you have Goliath in your sights?”

“My rookery brother is at Detective Maza’s home for a ‘quiet night’ in,” Coldsteel said, on the other end of the line. Demona’s eyes flared red just as the sounds of the blond human screaming in terror echoed through the sky before being silenced by her pet. “You spoil that beast of yours,” he said.

“My pet so rarely gets such indulgences in New York,” she replied. “Let him enjoy the French countryside.”

As she spoke, the first rays of the sun appeared over the eastern horizon. Demona dropped the phone and her weapon, and fell to the ground in pain as her body shifted, her wings and tail were reabsorbed into her frame, while her skin morphed from a lovely blue to a pale Caucasian. Her body itched as hair follicles quickly grew in places her gargoyle form lacked. Finally, her brow ridges were pulled back into her skull.

“My apologies, sister. Did I catch you at sunrise?” Coldsteel asked, not hiding his apathy.

Dominique picked her phone up off the ground, gripped the whip that she had clipped to her belt and grinned. “The pain I feel at the rising and setting of the sun will pale against what I have in store for Goliath.”

She ended the call, before picking up her particle beam cannon and making her way towards her chateau. As she entered the house, she climbed the stairs and strode into her library. After setting the gun down on a table, she approached a small vault and opened it. Pulling out a manilla envelope, she opened it and removed an ancient piece of parchment: the final page of the _Grimorum Arcanorum_.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Elisa’s loft, Manhattan**

As Franco Zeffirelli’s 1968 film adaptation of “ _Romeo and Juliet”_ came to an end, Elisa leaned against Goliath’s chest and placed a hand on his thigh. But her mate continued to grumble.

“You didn’t like it?” Elisa asked.

“It was well done,” said Goliath. “But my mind was elsewhere.”

Elisa raised an eyebrow. “Goliath, you know it kills me that the city doesn’t appreciate you guys,” she said. “But you knew acceptance wouldn’t be overnight. You’ve reminded all of us whenever we were down.”

“Yes,” said Goliath. “Being raised by humans, Angela did take their fear the hardest.”

“I’ll talk to Matt, and see if he can talk to Mr. Jaffe,” Elisa said. “I’ve met him a few times, he’s a very good man. He’ll come around.”

“I should not dwell on the opinion of one human,” Goliath sighed. “Still...”

Elisa placed a finger on his lips and got off of the couch, standing in front of him wearing nothing but a black negligee. “Tonight’s our night off and we still have a few hours until sunrise,” she said. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Why don’t we stop worrying about what we can’t do and explore more of what we can do?”

Goliath grinned, lifted his mate into his arms, and pulled her in for a kiss.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Chambly, France**

Within the master bedroom, the bell of the clock chimed, waking the occupant of the four-poster, king-sized bed. Dominique stirred under the covers, before stretching her arms over her head and smiling.

Normally, Dominique slept no more than three or four hours after sunrise, and her dreams did nothing to help her disposition. But today, she had slept for well over six, and just as she had every morning for the last several weeks, she slept peacefully and contentedly. She almost hated to get out of bed at all, but the sun would rise in Manhattan in fifteen minutes and she needed to be ready.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Elisa’s loft, Manhattan**

Goliath ran his hand across Elisa’s bare back before buckling his loincloth and cloaking his wings. He looked out the window as the sky began to brighten. Elisa got up, donned her terrycloth blue robe and followed him out of the bedroom and out onto the balcony.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Chambly, France**

Now dressed in her halter-top, loincloth, and gold jewelry, Dominique stepped out of her chateau carrying the stolen whip in her left hand and the rolled-up parchment in her right. As she strode through the expansive backyard, she held her arms to her side and basked in the warm golden rays of the early afternoon sun.

She stepped over the mushrooms and set the coiled whip on the ground in the epicenter of the fairy ring. She studied the page one more time before casting it aside and pulling a silver dagger from her belt.

“ _Argenti penetrat terram nativitatis nostrae,_ ” she chanted, then plunged the silver dagger into the spot of earth at the center of the coiled whip. And as she did, the gentle breeze became a violent wind.

“ _Regina iubes me ad maximum telum est responsum eius ad me,_ ” she continued to chant, her long hair flowing in the strong, howling winds, as the whip began to glow with a green energy.

The violent winds did little to deter her; rather they fueled her. Dominique cast her attention to Goliath, her hatred focused like a laser as she finished the ritual.

“ _Sicut divina hac flamma circulum,_ ” she practically shouted as the ring of mushrooms burst into purple flames. “ _Mab me iubes quae in potestate mea!_ ”

The whip’s glow brightened as the purple flames illuminated the entire ring with their energy.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Elisa’s loft, Manhattan**

Goliath flared his wings out and struck a fearsome pose as the first rays of the sun appeared over the horizon.

As he turned to stone, Elisa reached out and cupped his cheek. The fearsome visage dropped, replaced by an expression of his love for the woman who was the last thing he saw before he slept.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Chambly, France**

Dominique grinned viciously as she grabbed the bone handle of the ancient whip. The runes on the handle glowed red as she held it aloft, taking the lash in her other hand.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath yawned as his eyes slowly opened, closed, and then opened again. There were no skies above him, just a white ceiling. A warm body was lying next to him. Despite the darkness of the room, he could tell the body belonged to a human female.

“Elisa?” he whispered. He felt the woman next to him begin to stir.

“You said something, my love?” Goliath’s eyes widened. Even in the darkness, his eyes still not fully accustomed to being awake, he recognized that voice.

The adrenaline rush kicked in. He leaped out of bed, and turned towards it in a defensive stance.

“Demona!” he growled. “Why have you brought me here?!”

“Heavens, what’s wrong with you?” she aggressively asked as she flipped on a light.

Goliath briefly shielded his eyes and then lowered his arm. The occupant of the bed that had lain beside him was, indeed, Demona. But she was not a gargoyle. She was a human.

It was then that his eyes caught sight of his reflection. He gasped at the sight of it. He was no longer a gargoyle. Looking back at him was a well-built, dark-skinned, human male.

“What have you done?” Goliath said, whirling back towards the bed as Dominique slowly got out of it.

She approached him, raising an eyebrow. The look of confusion on her face was the only thing she was wearing. Goliath then looked down, he was just as bare as she was. No loincloths or lamb-skin rags to be found anywhere.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Dominique asked as she approached him. Goliath stepped backwards, his backside connecting with the cold wall.

“Yes,” Goliath replied, playing along for a moment. “A terrible one.”

“It’s that book you’re writing, isn’t it?” she asked. “You’ve spent too much time looking at pictures of war-torn lands and genocide.”

“My book” he asked. “Yes... of course.”

Without being able to stop himself, he took Dominique in. He had never seen Demona’s human form before, only heard about it. He was surprised at just how similar in appearance they were. Her face, her overall build, her various features. Dominique lacked the wings, tail, ears, talons, and haunches of Demona while possessing hair in places that her gargoyle form lacked. He quickly looked away, in shame.

Before this situation could get more awkward, they were interrupted by a knocking on the door.

“Mom, Dad?” came the distinct voice of Angela. “I heard a noise, are you two all right?”

Dominique untucked the white bedsheet and used it as a wrap, while Goliath hurried into the bathroom. Flipping on a light, he studied his new human form even more closely.

“Your father had a bad dream, child,” Dominique said as she answered the bedroom door. “He’ll be all right.”

“’Child?’” Angela playfully protested. “I’m married.”

“If you still want me to make you breakfast, then I will call you ‘child’,” Dominique replied, equally playful. “We’ll meet you two in the breakfast nook after we’ve showered and dressed.”

Being a human now, for some reason, a shower felt like a good idea. Perhaps it would help him clear his head. He pulled the curtain aside, stepped into the spacious shower, and was immediately confused by the controls. Gargoyles seldom bathed, unless necessary and sunrise was hours away. Stone sleep cleaned them just as it rejuvenated them.

He fussed around with the controls, and the shower burst to life. Too cold. Too hot. He had seen Elisa do this before, and even joined her more than once. But this was almost as confusing as Lexington’s new LexPhones.

Dominique pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the shower to join him. “Are you trying to scald yourself?” She reached for the controls and lowered the temperature to a mild heat.

Goliath pressed himself further against the wall, hoping to avoid all physical contact with her. If Demona wasn’t behind this, who was? Puck? The Weird Sisters?

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath, now dressed in a lavender shirt and brown pants with his hair tied back into a long ponytail, slowly took a seat at the square kitchen table. Dominque stood at the stove, dressed in a stylish golden blouse and a black skirt as she cooked breakfast. Though, in his eyes, watching her cook looked less like watching Broadway prepare a meal for the clan and more like she was mixing some sorcerous concoction. Barely a word was spoken.

The silence was broken as two humans who could have only been Broadway and Angela entered the room. Broadway had short, slightly messed blond hair, and was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. But Angela was unmistakable. She was almost the spitting image of Dominique but with his darker complexion and longer hair. She wore a black pants-suit over a white blouse, a couple of buttons undone with a badge hanging around her neck from a blue lanyard. Goliath took a closer look at her badge and took a deep breath when he recognized the United Nations logo on it, next to a photograph of her face.

“Good morning,” she said as she kissed Goliath on the cheek before taking a seat next to him.

“Mornin’,” Broadway said as he sat down at Goliath’s left, opposite Angela. He then turned to Dominique. “Hey, Ms. Destine, I would have been happy to cook.”

“When you’re in my house, I do the cooking,” Dominique retorted. “And once again, it’s ‘Dominique’. You are family now.”

“You know Mom,” Angela replied with a grin. “She rules the house with an iron fist.”

“And don’t forget it,” Dominique said, as she flipped a crêpe onto a plate with her spatula.

“I thought you hired me because you liked my cooking?” Broadway said. “Nightstone’s top chef?”

“I won’t deny that your coffee brews and meals have made us millionaires many times over,” Dominique said. “I suppose stealing my daughter was an equitable trade.”

Goliath listened, surprised at the lack of bitterness in her voice. This wasn’t the Demona he knew; it was his Angel of the Night from over ten centuries ago... albeit in the form of a human. And yet, the passion he once held for her had yet to materialize.

“You two will need to make do without me soon,” Angela said as she fingered her badge. “The UN is sending me to Macedonia in a couple of days. I just got the news this morning.”

“Isn’t that place a war zone?” Broadway said, paling at the thought of it.

“The Albanian National Liberation Army has attacked security forces, yes,” said Angela. “But the entire region is a tinder box.”

“They shouldn’t be sending an intern!” Broadway protested.

“Actually, I volunteered,” Angela replied. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. But I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.”

Goliath smiled for the first time. Human or gargoyle, this was indeed his daughter.

“Be careful,” Dominique warned as she set down a plate in front of Goliath before taking a seat. “The world isn’t safe anymore.”

“It’s hardly any safer here,” Angela sighed.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

After breakfast, Broadway left to catch the subway while Dominique, Angela and Goliath piled into Dominique’s red 2000 Jaguar convertable. Angela sat up front, while Goliath struggled with the seat belt.

Taking the FDR Drive, they found themselves in front of the United Nations within a half hour. “They’re not sending me off today,” Angela said. “I promise we’ll all be eating dinner together tonight and tomorrow.” After hugging her parents, she exited the vehicle.

Once she departed, the atmosphere became a lot more frigid. “Please, sit up front,” Dominique asked. Goliath hesitated, then climbed into the front seat, thankful that he had figured out the seatbelt by now.

“And where are you taking me?” he asked bitterly.

“You forgot?” She sighed and shook her head. “Of course you did.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath followed Dominique into an office on the Upper East Side, prepared for anything. What he found was a rather plain room with a couch, some Japanese artwork adorning the walls, and a suspiciously famliar-looking woman, wearing a yellow business suit, seated.

The woman got up and shook their hands. “Mr. and Mrs. Destine?” she said. Goliath gasped again, recognizing the voice of Katana. His eyes darted to her desk. Upon it sat a photograph of a white haired man, in a black leather biker jacket, and an eye-patch, that would have made him laugh under different circumstances.

“Good morning, doctor,” Dominique said.

“Doctor.” Goliath nodded, all the while pondering whether this was just a dream. It was too vivid, and reminded him too much of similar attacks upon his mind.

“I thought we had rekindled something last night,” Dominique said. “He was passionate, loving, just like the early years of our marriage. But this morning... he called out to another woman. An ‘Elisa’. And that was before he called me ‘Demona’.”

“I see,” Katana said, as she took her notes, then turned to Goliath. “You said you were a writer," she said. "I suppose you could have been trying out a name for a fantasy villain.

“I, I...” Goliath stuttered. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. “I don’t know what came over me.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath dejectedly followed Dominique out the doors. Was his guilt real? Was he trying to figure out what, if anything, she was up to? At this point, he didn’t know anymore.

“I just don’t understand,” Dominique said. She covered her eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses, hoping to hide any tears from the world. “We were happy for so many years.”

Part of Goliath compelled him to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. But he held that part in check. “I don’t know what is happening here.”

Dominique whirled around, prepared to read him the riot act. But they were interrupted by the sound of thousands of booted feet marching.

Appearing, as if from thin air, thousands of Quarrymen marched. In the midst of the march, standing astride a giant parade float stood the all too familiar figure of John Castaway shouting into a microphone. At his side stood a hooded, female Quarryman.

“And as we are on the verge of attaining true power over this land, our leader has given me the blessing to order you all to cast aside your hoods once and for all!” Castaway smirked as each of the Quarrymen before him and behind removed their masks. “We need not hide any longer!”

Behind Castaway, the woman ripped off her hood, and long flowing black hair spilled out. Goliath gasped at the sight of her, as she wielded her hammer. “Elisa!” he cried out.

“What?!”Dominique cried, then turned on him again, the anger on her face immeasureable.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Paris**

A top a small apartment building, the stone skin began to crack as the last rays of sun disappeared into the horizon. Yama awoke with a mighty yawn. He ran towards the nearby shed, and found his weapons and his black uniform undisturbed. He quickly donned them and took to the air, just in time for his comm link to buzz.

“Yes, Hunter?” he answered.

“I scoped out the Paris headquarters of Nightstone Unlimited today,” she said. “There was no sign of the demon. Just that insufferable Sandra Dumont, their local director. Although, I suppose, she may be a demon in and of herself.”

Yama rolled his eyes at Hunter’s attempt at humor, although he couldn’t help but bristle again at her use of the word ‘demon’. “Do we know what she took last night?” he asked.

“An old whip that was dug up in Verona two years ago,” Hunter replied. “All I have been able to uncover is that part of the Mab poem is inscribed on its handle.”

“Mab poem?” Yama inquired.

“You need to read more Shakespeare, Yama,” Hunter said.

“I know who Mab is. Or was,” Yama growled. “On our mission to the Shandong province, the Monkey King said he had been one of her subjects. If her son rules the Third Race, we needn’t worry about her.”

“I don’t care whether Mab is dead or not,” said Hunter. “If the demon has her whip, it must be an object of great power. Find out what she’s up to, by any means necessary.”

Yama deactivated his comm-link and almost soared past Notre Dame when he heard the cougar-like roar of a female gargoyle.

He corrected course in mid air and then came to a landing atop the cathedral. Standing before him was the gargoyle that Hunter disgustingly referred to as ‘the demon’. And her descriptions didn’t do her justice. She was as intimidating as she was beautiful, and as he sized her up, he wasn’t confident enough in his impressive skills to think he could beat her if this became a fight.

“I saw you last night at the Louvre,” she said. “I must apologize for running off, but...”

“The humans were shooting at us,” he said. He stole a glance at the whip hanging from her belt. “You needn’t apologize.”

“And where did you come from?” she asked, sizing him up as he did her “Your accent is not French. And there are no clans in Europe.”

“East,” he replied. “I had heard stories of a winged monster of Notre Dame a few years ago. I allowed myself to hope it was one of my kind.”

“But why travel this far?” she asked. “Our kind seldom leave their territory.”

“Because,” he sighed, the memory as bitter as it ever was. “Because I was banished from my clan.”

“I see,” she said. “I am Demona,” she reached out her hand.

“I am Yama... the Mountain,” he responded, taking her hand in a warrior’s handshake.

“Come with me to my chateau,” she said. “I think we have much to discuss.”

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter Two

**Elisa’s loft, Manhattan. May 4 th**

As the sun set beyond the horizon, the stone encasing Goliath cracked and he awoke, eyes glowing. His roar-like yawn echoed through the sky. He covered his forehead with his palm, and breathed a sigh of relief. “It was just a dream,” he said to himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a piece of paper taped to the skylight behind him. He reached out and took it, finding a note.

_Hey, Big Guy,  
I had to go into the station early. I’ll catch you later tonight._

_Love you,  
Elisa_

“I love...” but he couldn’t finish the sentence. It was as if something inside him was compelling him not to. He re-read the note and even the love he was feeling was quickly replaced by annoyance bordering on anger.

He growled slightly, then took to the air, heading north towards the Eyrie Building. After several minutes he arrived, coming to a landing in the courtyard where the clan had all gathered.

“So, you and Elisa had a good time?” asked Brooklyn, clasping a warm hand on his leader’s shoulder. But Goliath brushed it aside.

“Never mind Elisa,” he muttered, angrily.

“You two didn’t have a fight, did you?” Angela asked.

“No,” Goliath sharply replied, before sighing and calming down at the sight of his daughter taking a step backwards. “I apologize, Angela.”

“So I assume you haven’t been following current events,” said Lexington.

“What do you mean?” asked Goliath.

“Demona raided the Louvre last night!” Broadway said,. He handed Goliath a copy of _The New York Times_. The photo on the front page was blurry, but the silhouette in it was unmistakable.

“The lass shot down a police helicopter,” Hudson added. “Nobody was hurt, but I cannae imagine the city won’t be a tinder box tonight.”

Brooklyn grabbed the paper from Broadway and thumbed through the article before growling. “It says she stole the Whip of Mab.”

“What’s that?” Angela asked, bracing herself for an answer.

“Very bad news if she can figure out how to use it,” Brooklyn replied. Katana approached her mate’s side, detecting the fear in his voice and wrapped her arm around his waist. “And I think we need to operate under the assumption that she knows how to use it. We should also assume she’s on her way back to Manhattan with it at this very moment, if she’s not in town already.”

“Then we will patrol the city tonight!” Goliath declared, eyes blazing. “Hudson, Angela, you’re with me! Brooklyn, you take Katana and Broadway. Lexington and Staghart will patrol with Coldstone and Coldfire!”

“But who will watch Tachi?” Lexington asked.

Goliath sighed, exasperated by the question. “Lexington, you and Staghart can take her to your laboratory,” he said.

“Great!” Lex replied.

“I think we’ve got some toys down there to entertain the hatchling,” Amp added.

Brooklyn approached Goliath cautiously. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You’ve been in a bad mood ever since you got back. Maybe you should just stay in tonight.”

“No!” Goliath growled. “At this moment, there is nothing I would rather do than patrol the city.”

Before any more words could be said, Goliath took to the air, gliding south. Angela and Hudson exchanged a worried glance before following.

“You heard him,” said Brooklyn.

“Can I patrol with you tonight?” Nashville asked. Brooklyn nodded and the rest of the gargoyles leapt from the castle and spread their wings, to soar out over Manhattan.

Nashville cautiously approached Brooklyn and sighed before asking, “So what can Moany do with Mab’s old whip?”

Katana glared at Gnash, as she had done many times in the past when the young gargoyle would broach this subject. Brooklyn seldom discussed it with anybody. She found the memory just as bitter.

“The better question, Gnash,” said Brooklyn, “is what can’t she do with it?

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Chambly, France. May 5 th**

Yama sat on a large sofa in front of a marble coffee table, taking in the atmosphere of the chateau. It was dark, save the for candles that illuminated the room and the moonlight coming in through the skylight.

The decor of the room was very baroque; shelves filled with old books and art depicting gargoyles lined the walls. The flame-furred beast, Hellhound, sat in the corner of the large sitting-room not taking his glowing white eyes off of the tengu.

Yama quietly sipped the tea Demona had poured him minutes ago, and nodded. “I must thank you. The tea is refreshing.”

“You said you had come from the East,” Demona called from the kitchen. “I found some Jasmine and hoped you would like it.”

“It is not the tea of my homeland,” he answered. “But it is still lovely.”

Demona emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray with three plates. She set one down in front of her guest, then one on her end of the table, before her chair. Finally, she set a large plate with a full leg of lamb in front of Hellhound. The beast got up, ran over, and started chewing into his dinner.

“I seldom cook,” she said, as she took her seat in a tall arm-chair before picking up her utensils and cutting into the lambchops.

Yama took in the scent of the food, before partaking. “Your culinary skills match those of my clan’s chef,” he said. “I find it hard to believe that you seldom cook.”

“Oh, I do spend much of my time mixing ingredients,” she said, a sly smile crossing her face. “So tell me, why did your clan exile you?”

“I wanted to protect them from the humans that we... that they live with,” he said. “I made the mistake of trusting a wealthy human with their safety. But he sought only to exploit us.”

“You tried to do right by your clan,” she said. “If they cannot see that, then the fault is theirs. But the only mistake that you did make was trusting a human.” Her eyes took on their red glow. “I made that mistake once. Never again.”

“I miss them,” he said. He cast his gaze to the floor. “I cannot return home until I have regained my lost honor.”

“And who judges that?” Demona asked, the glow fading.

“I do,” he replied. The memory was bitter. “It was believed that I would be an unforgiving judge.”

“I see,” Demona said, her tone becoming very sympathetic. “But if you want my opinion, your honor was never lost. You should return home.”

“I cannot,” he said.

“You have a mate, do you not?” she asked. “Don’t you want to see her again?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Not a night goes by where I don’t gaze at the stars and miss her.”

“Then go home,” she said, insistingly. “Perhaps I’ll join you on the trip.”

The tengu looked up from the floor and over at Demona. This was Hunter’s demon. The monster she would often bring up. And here she was, trying to be one of the few true friends he had met since his banishment. But what did he know of her? Only what Hunter had told him. A gargoyle slayer. A gargoyle slayer that he had sworn fealty to.

“Do you hate humans?” he asked.

“I have seen them commit atrocity after atrocity to our kind, let alone to each other.”

“And what is your solution?” he asked, fearing her answer.

“My greatest desire is to help our kind survive,” she said. “And I will do whatever is necessary to achieve that survival.”

“I have never been too fond of the villagers,” he confessed. “Sitting here with you has been enlightening. I thank you for your hospitality.”

Demona smiled warmly and nodded, before taking another bite of her lambchop. “The pleasure was all mine,” she said.

“Why were you running from the Louvre?” Yama asked, trying not to glance at the whip hanging from her belt.

“To protect our kind, sometimes I need to acquire unlikely tools,” she answered, then said nothing further.

Not wanting to press the issue, Yama changed the subject. “Tell me about your clan. Where are they? Do you have a mate?”

Demona sighed bitterly and didn’t so much as stick her fork into her lamb as stab it.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Manhattan**

Mr. Jaffe donned his hood just before the doors to the van opened and he, along with five other Quarrymen, piled out in front of Columbus Circle. Castaway was the last to exit the van, dressed in his full Quarryman uniform, hood, and three red scars emblazoned behind the Q-logo on his chest.

A second van pulled up, and Banquo and Fleance piled out of the back of it, then removed a large life-sized statue of a demonic gargoyle representing a more horrific version of Goliath. Beneath his hood Castaway smiled as his followers began to block off traffic.

“These people are just trying to get home,” said Jaffe. “Is cutting off traffic really necessary?”

“If the Gargoyle Taskforce won’t protect the decent and law-abiding, then we must take matters into our own hands!” Castaway shouted before he activated his hammer and swung it at the gargoyle statue, shattering it.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Over the city streets, Goliath soared, leading Angela and Hudson on their patrol of the city. As they glided west of the Eyrie Building, Angela pointed towards Columbus Circle.

“Uh oh,” she said as the Quarrymen continued to block off traffic and wave their hammers in the air. “This could be trouble.”

“I would like nothing more than to teach those hooded fools a lesson,” Hudson growled.

“But that’s what Castaway wants,” said Angela. “To provoke us into...”

Before Angela could finish her sentence, Goliath’s eyes glowed white and he dove down towards the Circle, his roar echoing in the night. “What are you doing?” Angela cried before she and Hudson followed.

Goliath landed atop the statue of Christopher Columbus before leaping to the ground, amidst all the Quarrymen. Two of them dropped their hammers at the very sight of the gargoyle and ran off.

“Well, well, monster,” Castaway said from beneath his hood. “I have been waiting to meet you face to face again.”

“And I have been waiting to whet my talons with your blood, coward!” Goliath growled. He leapt aside as Castaway charged at him with reflexes betraying his many years of training as a Hunter.

Banquo and Fleance charged up their hammers as they prepared to rush Goliath from his flanks, only to be confronted by Angela and Hudson who landed at their leader’s side.

Hudson raised his sword and deflected Fleance’s hammer while Angela whipped her tail around Banquo’s right arm and constricted it like a snake, cutting off his circulation and forcing his grip on his hammer to weaken.

Goliath grabbed the head of Castaway’s hammer in his right hand, and growled in pain as the electical energy coursed through his body. But the gargoyle leader was relentless as he tore the hammer from Castaway’s hand and tossed it aside, while his tail whipped the Quarryman in the side, knocking him to the ground.

Jaffe quickly forced himself between Castaway and the gargoyle leader, holding his hammer in a defensive position. “Get out of here, creature!” he said. “Now.”

But Goliath growled and bounded forward, slashing the older man across the gut. He then picked the Quarryman up off of the ground and threw him thirty feet, where he came to a rough landing on the stairs before the statue of Columbus.

As this took place, two other Quarrymen helped Castaway to his feet and hustled him back towards one of the vans. “Come on,” said one of them as the doors to the back of the van closed behind them.

“Looks like the boss is making a tactical retreat,” Fleance said as she helped Banquo back to his feet, and faced down the two growling gargoyles.

The Quarrymen’s helicopter then flew overhead, its rope lader hanging out over the side. The two mercenaries quickly grabbed onto it before the helicopter took off.

The sounds of police sirens were rapidly getting closer. “Come,” said Goliath. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We should stay and help him!” Angela said, pointing at the twitching form of the still hooded Jaffe lying face down on the stone steps.

“Do you wish to spend the rest of your life in a cage?” Goliath shouted. “We are leaving. That’s an order!”

Hudson and Angela exchanged uncomfortable glances, then followed Goliath to the statue. Each scaled it in turn and took to the air as police and emergency vehicles finally arrived.

“Lad, when I said I wanted to teach the Quarrymen a lesson, that was not a suggestion to take their bait,” Hudson said.

“Enough!” Goliath growled. “We have a city to patrol.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Across the street, perched on a rooftop yet still concealed in the shadows, Coldsteel watched the proceedings and smirked. “This should please sister.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Chambly, France**

“I can’t go home,” said Yama. “Your words have given me much to consider, but my honor is still lost to me.”

“Then perhaps there is a place for you at my side,” Demona said. She tapped her chin, considering her next words. “Help me protect our kind and once you feel you’ve accomplished this, I will take you home where I am certain you will receive a hero’s welcome.”

“The sun will be rising soon,” said Yama. “Do you mind if I consider your offer while I sleep?”

“Take your time,” said Demona. She was about to speak further when her cell phone started ringing. She picked it up from the table, and recognized the number. “I apologize for my manners, but I need to take this call.”

She stood up and proceeded out of the living room, but stopped short and looked back at Yama over her shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable, if I do not return by sunrise, sleep wherever you wish.” She then exited into the hallway.

Yama stood up, and paused as Hellhound continued watching him. He ignored the beast and made his way to the patio doors and out into the backyard. As soon as he was a safe distance from the house, he leaned against a tree and activated his comm-link. “Hunter?”

“Your homing beacon is off, Yama,” she said. “Why?”

“She hasn’t told me much of anything,” said Yama, completely ignoring her question. But, even if she had, would he want to tell Hunter?

“Where are you?” Hunter didn’t so much ask as order an answer.

“North of Paris.” Yama replied. “Beyond that, I do not know.”

“The sun is about to rise,” said Hunter. “Turn on your homing beacon and I can be there during the day, when she is vulnerable and...”

But Yama just disconnected the call. Had he stayed on much longer, Hunter would have been able to triangulate his position anyway. He made his way back to the chateau, through the patio doors and into the living room. Demona’s beast continued to glare daggers at him.

He placed his weapons down on the table in an orderly fashion. Then he removed his black uniform, neatly folded it, and set it down next to the weapons. The uniform didn’t truly belong to him; it would not turn to stone, and would not survive sunset. Clad only in his Fundoshi, he was about to turn to the window to receive the rising sun, but stopped.

The homing beacon was still in his uniform. Hunter had mentioned before that his host didn't turn to stone. If this was true, no doubt Demona would go through his things and find it. He closed his fist around it, and hid his comm-link in his other fist before turning towards the patio doors and greeting the first rays of dawn.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Dominique strode into the living room, holding her cellphone at her ear. “My plan is proceeding even better than expected. Dreams are the realm of the subconsious,” she said as she caressed the coiled whip hanging from her belt. “I intend to end this game very soon.”

“With a weapon like that at your disposal, I am just brimming with ideas,” said Coldsteel.

“Likewise, brother.” Dominque grinned and then paused at the sight of Yama’s nearly nude stone form. “My guest removed his outfit before turning to stone.”

“He’s getting a little presumptuous, I see.” Coldsteel’s grin was clearly audible.

“No, he has a mate that he’s very devoted to,” she retorted. “Besides, Yama is not my type.”

“Yes, sister, we both know what your type is,” he said. Her silent treatment response to that was deafening. “Perhaps gargoyles from the East’s clothes don’t turn to stone with them?”

“He is still wearing underwear,” Dominique replied. “The Modesty Spell affects all of us.”

“Save for you and I,” Coldsteel sneered. Then his tone turned deadly. “He is a danger, take one of your maces to him now.”

“I would rather test his loyalty.” Dominique smiled with sinister intent before ending the call.

She made her way to the table and quickly examined his sword and other weapons. She pat down his folded uniform and found nothing. Satisfied, she left the living room and strode down the hallway, then up a flight of stairs towards her master bedroom.

For the last few weeks, she had been sleeping very well, and dreamt dreams that were more than satisfying. She looked forward to continuing that streak.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**The Eyrie Building. May 5 th**

With dawn minutes away, Goliath led Angela and Hudson towards the Eyrie Building. They came to a graceful landing atop the main tower where Elisa and Brooklyn were waiting for them. His second-in-command held a worried look on his face while Elisa’s face seethed in an angry scowl.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?!” Elisa yelled before anyone else could open their mouths.

“I was showing the Quarrymen that we will no longer stand for their threats,” Goliath growled. “Perhaps if the police would do something about them, my actions would not have been necessary.”

“Goliath, the police were on their way the moment the Quarrymen cut off traffic,” she said.

“And what then? The city would charge them a fine and they would continue,” said Goliath as he loomed closer to her, his shadow cast across her face.

But Elisa did not back off. “I know it’s frustrating, believe me, I get it,” she said. “But don’t think for one moment that my mom didn’t want to knock the sheet off a hood-wearing coward’s face more than a few times when she marched for equality. But she didn’t, because it would have hurt her and helped them. I thought you realized that.”

Goliath turned his back on her and stared out over the city. “In any event, there is one less Quarryman on the streets tonight.”

“Mr. Jaffe,” said Elisa. “We had to take him out on a stretcher, and right now they’re not sure he’s going to live. Which puts Matt in an even more precarious position. He knows Mr. Jaffe, he’s a friend of his. Matt and I have been using the Taskforce to run cover for you guys for years. How much longer can that go on?”

“That is not my concern,” Goliath said, keeping his back to her.

Angela reached out towards Goliath, but pulled back. Hudson shook his head before strolling down the stairs towards his perch.

“Goliath, are you all right?” Brooklyn asked, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice. “Are you sleeping well?” But his question fell on deaf ears as Goliath mounted his perch and struck a combative post.

“What’s gotten into you?” Elisa asked. Her anger had vanished and was replaced by fear. “Are you trying to write Castaway’s speeches for him?”

Goliath merely snarled as the sun rose and turned him to stone.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

His eyes snapped open. It was dark. The only illumination in the room was the glowing, red clock numbers on the nightstand. 3:39, they read. Goliath sat up in the large, king-sized bed and hugged the blankets to himself. He looked at his hands and saw the same human hands he had seen the previous day.

For some reason, rather than feeling alarmed about all this, he felt comfortable, too comfortable. He got out of bed, found a pair of lavender sweatpants and quickly donned them. He stepped out of the master bedroom and into the hallway. He passed by Angela’s room where he just knew that she and Broadway were fast asleep.

He didn’t quite get the chance to take in the massive penthouse they lived in the previous day. Artwork and gargoyle statues adorned the wall of the living room, and yet he knew it all. But he had to; this was his home.

He made his way into the kitchen where he found Dominique sitting in the dark, wearing nothing but a loose, green silk bathrobe. The silhouette of her wild hair was unmistakeable.

“Do you mind if I turn on the light?” he asked. Dominique slowly nodded. He flicked the switch and then sat down in the chair next to hers. “I am truly sorry,” he said.

“Who is this Elisa?” she asked, not looking him in the eye.

“Another life,” he replied.

“What other life?” she bitterly asked. “Does _our_ life not satisfy you?”

Images flashed through his head of Dominique, or rather Demona, attempting mass murder and destruction. But it felt like those images were being locked away, beyond his reach.

“Of course it does,” he said as he took her hand in his. She did not stop him. “I want to make this work.”

“I do, too,” she replied, finally looking him in the eye. The sharp emerald of her eyes matched the loose robe she wore.

He stood up from the chair, her hand still in his and then she stood up with him. He took the redhead into his arms and held her tight. Her arms went around his back and he took in the scent of her hair. It was exactly as he remembered it.

“I miss you, my angel of the night.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even contemplate them. His hand brushed under her chin, tilted her head up, and then he leaned in and they both shared a long, passionate French kiss.

Finally, they both came up for air. She cupped his cheek in her hand. “It’s late,” she said. “We need our rest. But you and I are making up for lost time this evening.”

There was no resistance on his part as she kissed him again.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“I am not going to Macedonia now!” Angela declared as she slammed the kitchen table with the palm of her hand, ignoring her breakfast.

“Perhaps you should,” said Dominique. “It might be safer.”

“I’m not going to run off while these fiends take control of our home!” Angela cried.

“Angela, maybe your mom is right,” the human version of Broadway said, as he pulled her into a hug.

“Angela, I raised you to follow your beliefs,” said Goliath. The unease and hesitance from the previous day was all but gone. “But Dominique is right. Without survival, what else is there?”

“I’ve already booked tickets to Paris,” said Dominique. “Pack a suitcase, we are traveling light.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

The journey to the airport had been frightening but uneventful, save for the lack of American flags, or flags of any kind except the banner of the new ruling party: a stylized Q in the shape of a hammer with a blue, gold-rimmed eye looming over it, surrounded by flames.

As Dominique parked her Jaguar, Goliath gasped at the sign welcoming them to the airport. No longer did it read “John F. Kennedy”; instead the name and image of that Viking, Hakon, adorned the terminals.

As they stood in line to present their passports, a security guard in a Quarryman uniform inspected them. Goliath suddenly recognized the man as Morgan, a police officer. “You four step into the other room,” he said.

Two more Quarrymen, whom Goliath recognized as Jackal and Hyena prior to their upgrades, violently ushered him, Dominique, Angela, and Broadway into an interrogation room and handcuffed them to chairs.

“Wait here, and behave yourselves,” Jackal sneered. “If you know what’s good for you.”

“Although I prefer criminals who don’t know what’s good for them,” Hyena cackled.

After about forty minutes of an uncomfortable silence, Goliath gasped as Elisa Maza entered the room, wearing her black Quarryman uniform. “All right, what have we got here?”

Elisa quickly inspected each of them, feeling their facial construction, looking them in the eyes; then her lips curled into a menacing grin as she got hands on with Goliath. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dominique’s own sneer of contempt for the woman.

“I think we’ve hit the motherload,” Elisa said. “Take them out back and load them up!”

Broadway shook with fear as their hands were cuffed behind their backs and they were pushed out to the back of the terminal where a prison bus was waiting for them.

Ahead of them were other prisoners who Goliath recognized on sight. The marriage therapist from the previous day as well as her one-eyed biker husband were pushed onto the bus as she clutched an infant to her chest. A young child, not even a teenager yet, in a United States Navy t-shirt was behind them. As Hyena shoved him, the child dropped the two action figures he was carrying, one of a golden robot and the other of a man with cybernetic limbs.

Elisa held out her clipboard and made a note of each of her prisoners. A tall English man, and his shorter American companion. A grizzled, scarred, bearded old soldier.

“All right, last ones!” said Jackal as Goliath and his family were ushered aboard. First Angela, then Broadway, then Dominique. When it was Goliath’s turn he struggled. Jackal and Hyena tackled him, but even with his hands in chains, he still managed to shake them off.

He glared up at Elisa and shuddered at the look of pure malice she directed back at him. “Okay, if you want to make this difficult.” She activated her hammer, raised it, and the sneer on her face was the last thing Goliath saw before everything went black.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

The world stopped spinning as Goliath slowly came to. He was still shackled. His wife, Dominique, was leaning against him. “You’re awake,” she whispered.

“Where are we?” he asked as he opened his eyes. But he did not need to ask, for once he took in his surroundings, he recognized the General Assembly of the United Nations.

A tear streamed down Angela’s face as the symbol of the United Nations was removed and a banner depicting an eye atop a hammer, wreathed in flame, was unveiled.

Goliath looked around them. The other victims of the Quarrymen’s kidnapping were all in chains around them. Something about them seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place them. Wait, he could... they were family, somehow. But not related to him by blood. Or were they?

Hundreds of Quarrymen chanted slogans and cheers, while others hurled curses in Goliath’s general direction. Broadway... was that his name? What was his name?

Goliath snarled as he recognized members of their unmasked tormenters. Elisa’s partner, Matt Bluestone; her boss, Maria Chavez; the Hero of Ulster; Natsilane; even Max Loew of Prague, and Erik and Gunther Sturluson, among many others.

The cheers abated when Castaway finally took the podium, with Elisa at his right hand. “My friends,” he said as he addressed the gathered Quarrymen. “Welcome to our long awaited day of triumph. Even as we speak, the reigns of power have been seized by our dear leader. Our Quarrymen march through the streets of every city in the country, and our master will soon seize the planet!”

The assembled Quarrymen cheered in sheer pandemonium. The sound did not die down for at least a couple of minutes, when Castaway grinned and continued. “But you’ve heard my voice for long enough. Our leader shall finally address us directly.”

Castaway and Elisa stepped away from the podium as a ball of flame erupted atop the dais. After a few seconds, the flames receded, revealing a regal-looking bearded old man, wearing black robes, a jeweled-eye atop a skullcap, and phoenix-shaped emblem on his chest.

“Archmage!” Goliath cried.

With a nod of the Archmage's head, the podium vanished. He stepped forward. “After all these many centuries, our time has come!” he cried out, his voice echoing throughout the chambers. “Those of you that willingly joined my cause shall live like kings in the new order. Those that didn’t will have time to think and then thank us for purging humanity of the toxin that has walked among us!”

The crowd erupted in applause and the Archmage smiled and continued. “One thousand years ago, I led our people to war against an insidious species. A species that plagued our nights. A species that prevented me from bringing order to this world gone mad!”

“What does he mean?” asked Angela.

“I think I....”, Goliath paused and stuttered. “I don’t know.”

“But these demons used the very sorcery that I now use as your lord-protector to become human and hide among us!” the Archmage shouted. “I suppose that I should not fault them for casting aside their worthless existence to live among their betters. But since then, they have plagued us from within bringing pestilence, war, death, and dividing us from each other.

“I entrusted you, my sacred knights, my Quarrymen, with hunting these beasts down and paving the way for my return! And you did not disappoint me!” He gestured towards the jewel on his forehead. “And with the Eye of Odin at my command, I have the insight to see through their insidious disguises.”

With a wave of his hand each of the shackled captives fell to the floor, writhing in agony as they painfully transformed from human to gargoyle. Tails and wings shredding through their clothing. The pain was brief, but it felt as if it lasted an eternity.

“We did not know!” Goliath cried out. “We have lived each day as humans, our lives were your lives. This history you have revealed to us was unknown!”

“I suppose it is true that they lived in a blissful ignorance,” the Archmage pondered. “Perhaps we should be merciful?”

“I don’t think so.” Elisa approached the Archmage, and powered up her hammer. “You know what they say about the sins of the father.”

“Well said, my dear,” the Archmage smiled, as Castaway pulled Elisa in for a passionate kiss.

Dominique, now blue with purple wings, threw herself against Goliath. “We have to do something,” she cried. “Do you want our daughter to perish at the hands of this evil?”

Goliath stared at Elisa in Castaway’s arms, then looked Dominique in the eye with indecisive fear.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Paris**

It was well past sunset when Demona came to a landing on the Eiffel Tower. Releasing Hellhound, who dug into the sides of the tower with his claws, she flexed her talons and tore off part of the fencing. Yama came to a landing, entering the hole she left, then assisted her in quickly tearing apart the rest of the fencing.

Satsified with the space, Demona flared her wings as Hellhound climbed in, growling at Yama. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a small, steel box underneath a bench. Satisfied by its presense, she unhooked the whip from her belt.

“I don’t understand,” said Yama. “Why have we come here?”

“To save our kind, my friend,” she replied.

“But how can we do that from here?” Yama asked, trying not to let his anxiety about the location escape him.

“The Eiffel Tower is, for all intents and purposes, a giant conductor,” she replied. “If I properly focus my powers through it...”

“Powers,” Yama muttered under his breath.

She was cut off by the sound of her cellphone ringing. “Yes, brother?” she answered.

“I’m just calling to wish you luck, dear sister,” he said. “I am looking forward to what our dearest brother does in his madness tonight.”

“I have no doubt he’ll be gutting his precious detective the moment he sees her,” she grinned.

This grabbed Yama’s attention, and he stepped closer, desperate to hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

“What a delightful thought,” said Coldsteel. “When this is over, I do humbly suggest you set your sights on the President. Just imagine how much human life he could snuff out while under your thrall.”

Demona grinned wickedly at the very thought. “You think too small, brother. I have much bigger plans.”

“What plans? Yama said. “I do not mean to overstep my bounds, but please help me to help you.”

“No less than the complete destruction of the human race!” she declared as her eyes glowed red. She held the whip over her head as magical energy coursed through its lash.

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Paris**

As Demona held the whip aloft, Yama’s mouth hung agape. After regaining his composure, he briefly slipped his hand into his pocket. “The destruction of humanity?”

“This whip once belonged to the original ruler of the Third Race.” Demona grinned. “Queen Mab was, quite possibly, the most powerful being to ever walk the Earth. But while she has long since faded into myth, this whip remains, and her power courses through it.”

“But how can it accomplish this task?” Yama asked, readying himself to go for his sword at a moment’s notice.

“Among her many titles, Mab was a mistress of dreams,” said Demona. “With this whip, I can influence the dreams of anybody on the planet. And with the Eiffel Tower as a conductor....”

“You will be able to influence everybody,” said Yama.

“Just think. Heads of state and military leaders under my thrall,” she was practically basking. “Humans are already barbarous. I will simply give them all that final nudge and they will be killing each other in the streets!”

“If what you say is true, the power at your disposal...” Yama trailed off in frightened awe.

“Yes, and I am eager to discover the extent of my newfound power,” she said. “But I know that as long as I possess the whip, my enemies will die. Humanity will die!”

Demona cracked the whip and the magical energy coursed through it, she then began channeling it through the Eiffel Tower. The clouds above them began to reflect the green glow of the whip’s power, illuminating the sky.

Yama quickly drew his sword and stepped forward. “I never claimed to be fond of humanity, but I cannot allow this genocide.” She whirled on him, her eyes burning like hot embers and her snarl piercing his soul. Before Yama could react, Hellhound growled. Yama turned towards the sound, but the beast pounced and pinned him to the floor. Losing his grip, his sword slid from his hand.

Demona flicked the sword over the side of the observation deck and sneered at the Tengu. “I had hoped that you would understand,” she said as she reached towards the steel box that she had eyed earlier. “More than I would have expected Goliath to understand.” Opening the box, she removed a particle beam rifle from inside. “Or those fools in Ishimura.”

“How do you know about Ishimura?” Yama cried.

“My daughter told me about a clan in Japan that lived ‘peacefully’ with humans,” she checked the battery on her particle beam. “The leader of the Xanadu Clan told me even more, including their location. She considers them to be a clan of fools!”

Yama struggled against the beast, but Hellhound was too strong. The Fu-Dog glared into Yama’s eyes, the glow betraying a murderous hunger.

“If your clan chooses humanity over their own kind, then they will die alongside Goliath’s clan!” Demona said, coldly, as she pointed her particle beam between Yama’s eyes.

The sound of a gunshot cut off Demona’s ranting as the gargoyle took a bullet in the side, and collapsed to the floor, still gripping the whip. She looked up, and her eyes narrowed and glowed at the sight that stood before her. “Hunter?”

Hunter advanced on Demona, gun in her hand, ready to finally finish the work of her ancestors. “You could have signaled me earlier, Yama,” she said. But Hellhound was up, and leaped towards Hunter, knocking the Scotswoman to the ground. She held her weapon, but was unable to point it.

Demona coiled the whip, and pressed it to her wound. The bullet suddenly emerged from her skin and the wound closed. She stood up, and cracked the whip at Yama, as he attempted to tackle her. The whip coiled around his throat, and he cried out in pain as magical energy coursed through it.

“A gargoyle allied with a Hunter?” she cried. “Never before have I witnessed such an obscenity!”

“And never have I met a gargoyle as pitiable as you,” Yama growled as the whip cut off his breathing.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

As hundreds of Quarrymen began to swarm them, Goliath’s eyes glowed and using his newfound strength, he broke free of his shackles.

“My friends, follow me and we shall survive!” Goliath cried as each of the gargoyles began tearing free of their shackles while he personally saw to Dominique and Angela’s shackles.

“A sporting chance,” said the Archmage with a smug grin. “Why not? Let my Quarrymen prove their worth.”

“Come on!” Dominique cried as she took Angela’s hand. “We have to get out of here!”

But they were set upon by all sides as hammer-wielding Quarrymen attacked. And one-by-one each of the gargoyles began to fall.

Goliath gasped as the human child called Gunther assaulted Nashville with his hammer. Nashville? Why did he know that name? He roared to the heavens as Gunther smashed his hammer down on the young gargoyle’s chest. Nashville convulsed in pain and then was still.

“You’ll pay for that!” hissed the marriage counselor, she took to the air, roaring in rage and grief. But Katana... the counselor was quickly shot out of the sky by John Castaway. Her husband roared and his single eye glowed, but he was quickly slain as the Hero of Ulster hurled his Spear of Light through Brooklyn’s gut.

Goliath winced, he did not know it was possible to be impaled by light. Bud Demo... Dominique took his hand. “We need behead the snake!”

But before Goliath could respond, Elisa rushed him with her hammer. He cried out in pain, but she was quickly driven back when D...ominique slashed her across the face with her talons. The Quarryman clutched her face with her hands as she fell to her knees.

“Oh no,” Angela whispered as Lexington and Staghart were trampled underfoot by several Quarrymen.

“If I am to die, I shall take a hundred of you with me,” Hudson growled as he dove headfirst towards his tormentors.

“They will kill us all!” Dominique shouted. “We need to fight back, to protect what is left of our kind!”

“How?!” Goliath cried as Hudson now lay dead at the feet of Jeffrey Robbins. This was odd, for some reason had Goliath thought that man was blind.

“We need to be one, Goliath,” Dominique said. Why did she call him by that ridiculous name? She reached out her hand, and he slowly reached back. But he hesitated.

Their surroundings turned into a blazing inferno as the Archmage appeared before them. “Why allow my hunters to have all the fun?” he said before blasting Dominique with a bolt of lightning.

Goliath gasped at the sight of his angel love in pain. He whirled on the Archmage and... now where did that memory come from? He didn’t ask, he just threw himself at the sorcerer and grabbed the Eye of Odin from his brow.

He cried out in pain as the Eye resisted his attempts to take it. But Goliath was relentless. “No matter what it takes, I will not let you destroy my people!” and with one clean motion, he had torn the Eye off of the Archmage’s brow. The sorcerer cried out as he burst into flames and then disintegrated.

Goliath helped Dominique to her feet and looked around. The Quarrymen were gone. All that was left were the corpses of gargoyles. “Is it over?” Angela knelt on the ground over Broadway’s corpse, holding what remained of him in her arms.

Suddenly Elisa Maza burst out of the shadows, an expression of raw hatred on her newly-scarred face. She swung her hammer at Angela’s skull quickly ending the life of the young gargoyle.

“No!” Goliath screamed as he disarmed Elisa and lifted her off the ground by the scruff of her neck.

“Kill her,” Dominique said. “You saw what she did to our daughter!”

Goliath looked Elisa in the eye and then hesitated, and the Quarryman spat in his face.

“I told you that we needed to behead the snake, Goliath.” Dominique spoke very tenderly. “She is the cause of all of our woes. Kill her and we will survive, kill her and we will thrive.”

Goliath looked to Dominique and then back to Elisa. But the Quarryman just glared daggers at him in defiance.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Paris**

“Alone, neither of you stood a chance against me,” Demona gloated as Yama struggled to breathe while Hunter tried, in vain, to remove Hellhound from her person. “Let alone with the whip at my command.”

“I’ve missed you, Robyn,” Demona sneered. “You were quite the efficient assistant. For old time’s sake, you can assist me with feeding my pet.”

Hunter gasped as she felt the beast’s hot breath on her face and understood the implications of Demona’s comment.

Despite not being able to breathe, Yama hurled himself at Demona and wrestled her to the ground. The two of them struggled as they rolled across the observation deck, as he tried to disarm her. But try as he might, she was not releasing her hold on that whip.

Yama cried out in pain as Demona sent another bolt of energy through the whip. She kicked him off of her, got to her feet and grinned at the sight him lying on the ground in agony.

“Enjoy your meal, my pet.” Demona picked up her particle beam and approached Yama.

“Allying with a Hunter. Is there a greater act of treachery than that?” Demona seethed as she got closer to the Tengu. “You are going to take a very long time to die.” Her eyes burned red. “And when you do, I’m going to throw you into a hole. You have forfeited your right to a Wind Ceremony.”

But her voice was drowned out by the sounds of a helicopter hovering overhead. A spotlight shined down on top of her. She snarled as she shielded her eyes, then fell backwards as a bolt of electricity zapped her in the chest.

Fang landed on the observation deck with a grin. “Hey, look, it’s my favorite cellmate.”

Yama slowly got to his feet and snarled at Fang. “I did not require your assistance, louse.”

“Sure ya didn’t,” Fang sneered. “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting any gratitude.”

Dingo leaped from the helicopter, guns firing. Hellhound growled and leaped off of Hunter just in time for Dingo to help her to her feet. “So this is what you do when you send me away?”

But Hunter ignored him and raised her weapon. “I don’t think I need to inform you all who our target is.”

“Don’t tell me we’re offering this witch redemption, too,” Dingo muttered.

Demona was quickly back on her feet and fired her particle beam at the squad in a mad frenzy. Her glowing eyes betraying her rage. But she didn’t notice Matrix rise from the ground and swallow up her particle beam cannon. She snarled as she let go.

“Subject identified as the rogue gargoyle: Demona,” Matrix said. “In order to best serve law and order, we must neutralize her.”

With her particle beam gone, Demona cracked the Whip of Mab, firing a bolt of magical energy into the sky, a bolt so bright it turned the night to day.

“Enough games,” she snarled. “I am going to enjoy killing every last one of you!”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“Kill her, Goliath!” Demona yelled, as she continued to hold out her hand. “What are you waiting for?” Goliath looked Elisa Maza in the eye, then let her go, and turned on Demona slapping her hand away.

“I do not know what manner of magic this is, Demona,” Goliath growled. “But whatever you are up to, you have failed!”

Demona growled and pounced on Goliath, talons bared, but he used her momentum to throw her onto the ground where she appeared to disintegrate just as the entire dream began to dissipate. As it did, his life, his memories, all of it began flooding back to him.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Matrix expanded himself as quickly as he could, taking the bolt of magical energy meant for his teammates. He exploded on impact, chunks of his nano-tech raining down across the observation deck.

Demona grinned as she raised the whip once more. Yama reached into his belt for a shuriken and threw it just as she struck. Piercing the bone-handle of the whip, and the flesh of her hand caused some of the whip’s magic to feedback into her.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Demona stood alone in the middle of a grassy field, this could only be the Scottish highlands. She gasped as stone zombies of gargoyles from Wyvern Hill erupted from the soil, alongside the gargoyles massacred by Canmore after she dissolved her alliance with Macbeth. Their roars echoed through the night.

“Betrayer!”

“Murderer!”

“No!” Demona cried. “I was trying to save you! All of you!”

“You destroyed us!” shouted the stone remains of the gargoyle that had been her second-in-command throughout the 11th century.

“You abandoned us!” came the small but angry voices of thirty-five hatchlings as they suddenly appeared behind her.

“No!” Demona cried as she sank to her knees. “Please... forgive me.”

“There can be no forgiveness! No redemption!” the crumbling stone remains of the Sruighlea cell growled as they grabbed her by the throat, and stretched her out. Their stone seeming to infect her as she become an immobile stone statue, yet still aware of her surroundings. The hatchlings threw ropes around her immobile form, and dragged her to the ground where she shattered on impact.

Then they were gone, her immobile head was all that remained. But she was no longer on the Scottish highlands. She was now lying in the middle of a path in Central Park. She gasped at the sound of familiar laughter.

Angela and Elisa Maza came strolling down the path, both cheerfully enjoying each other's company.

“Thank you for the picnic, mother,” Angela said, as she hugged Elisa tight.

Mother? How dare she! How dare they!

“What’s that over there?” Elisa asked, as she pointed towards Demona’s head.

“Oh, nothing,” Angela said as she flicked the head aside with her tail. “Just some worthless trash.”

“She’s not your mother! I am!” Demona cried as her head rolled down the hill and into the pond.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Paris**

The final crack of the whip’s energy blasted into the sky, slicing through the Redemption Squad’s helicopter like a hot knife through butter, cleaving it in half.

“Matrix, any time now!” Dingo called.

“Understood!” Matrix said as he quickly pulled himself together, and expanded outwards from the Eiffel Tower, absorbing the chopper’s debris before any of it could hit the ground.

Hunter breathed a sigh of relief then drew her gun and turned towards where Demona had been standing. But she was gone. So was Hellhound. All that remained was the Whip of Mab. Yama bent over and picked it up, examining the lash and then the bone handle. His eyes narrowed once he realized exactly what he was holding.

Hunter held out her hand, and Yama hesitated before handing it over to her.

“Demona has a chateau in the north west of Chambly,” he said. “There is a fairy ring on the grounds.”

“Dingo, Fang, Matrix, you heard him. I want the location secured,” Hunter ordered. She placed a hand on Yama’s shoulder. “Come with me.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**The Eyrie Building**

As the sun vanished beyond the western horizon, the Manhattan Clan awakened. Goliath briefly rubbed his brow, and then turned to see a visibly saddened Elisa standing behind him.

“Elisa, I,” he thought he would struggle to find the words, but they came easily to him. “I am so sorry.”

“What was wrong with you last night?” Elisa asked.

“Sorcery,” he said. “Demona had my mind under her thrall.”

“Controlling your dreams?” Brooklyn asked.

“Yes,” Goliath asked.

“Whip of Mab,” said Brooklyn. “I suspected.”

“I owe all of you an apology for my behavior,” Goliath said as the clan gathered around him. “But for now, we must fortify before she unleashes the whip’s power again.”

“If you’re free now, then I don’t think she has the whip anymore,” Brooklyn grinned.

“Take the evening off,” Angela said. “We can patrol the city tonight.”

“I will,” Goliath smiled. “But first, there is something I need to do.” He held out his hand to Elisa. “Will you come with me?”

Elisa smiled and climbed into his arms as they took off over the city.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Half a mile away, Coldsteel hovered as he watched the Manhattan Clan, and sighed. “Pity,” he said. “I do wonder how dear sister managed to screw things up this time.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Paris. May 6 th**

“We found the joint,” Dingo said over the radio. “The house was mostly empty. Only a few guns, and some trinkets. Maybe they’re magic, maybe they’re not.”

“Good,” Hunter replied.

“We also found two people being held captive in a barn,” Dingo sighed. “I figure they’re going to need many years of counseling. We’re taking them to a trauma unit and we should be back in twenty minutes.”

“And the demon?” Hunter asked.

“No sign of her,” said Dingo. “No juicy clues as to where she could be, either.”

Hunter ended the call as Yama entered the office and took a seat across from her desk.

“I thought you didn’t believe in ‘the hunt’ anymore,” said Yama.

“I don’t,” Hunter replied. “But the demon _is_ a monster. She needs to be hunted down before she can hurt anybody else.”

“Demona is not a demon,” said Yama. “Just a pitiable creature. But you are correct that she must be stopped.” He stared at the whip, lying on Hunter’s desk coiled up. “I am requesting to conduct a Wind Ceremony for that thing.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow behind her mask. “Why?”

“That whip’s handle was made from the bone of a gargoyle,” he said. “And in case you were unaware, the lash is human skin. I believe we should show respect for the victims of whoever created this thing.”

Hunter smiled and shook her head. “If my ancestors could see us. A gargoyle and a Hunter on the same side,” she said.

“Do you regret recruiting me?” Yama asked.

“No,” she replied. “I actually enjoy our working relationship.”

Yama didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so he changed the subject. “For a moment, I thought that if I did work with Demona, I could achieve everything I ever wanted. She told me everything that I wanted to hear.”

“Demons often do,” Hunter replied. “Validation is a powerful thing.”

“Please don’t use that word,” said Yama. “I miss my clan and I still hope to some night return to their side.” He got up, and was prepared to leave the office when Hunter asked him yet another question.

“Do you believe you’ve regained your lost honor?”

Yama said nothing. He had one foot out of the door when he stopped. Considering everything that had happened these last two nights, he didn’t have time to stop and think. “Where was the rest of the Squad throughout this mission?”

“They were on their own separate mission?” Hunter replied. “Tracking Geraldine FitzGerald. Unfortunately, she slipped through their grasp.”

“Did your superiors assign us to go after Demona?” he asked. Hunter did not respond, and Yama ran towards her desk and slammed his palms down on it. As he stared into his leader’s masked eyes, the memory of Griff’s terror for his clan at the mere sight of her flashed through his brain. “By exposing myself to Demona, I compromised the safety of my clan to her.”

“You said she already knew about them,” Hunter replied.

“But YOU did not know that!” Yama’s eyes burned white as he yelled. But if Hunter felt any remorse, she did not show it. He then turned around and left her office. Not another word passed between them.

Once he was gone, Hunter picked up her cell phone and dialed a number. “Sir?”

“I heard you and Yama went off the reservation,” the Director replied.

“We did,” she said. “But we stopped a plot by Demona to cause catastrophic damage to human civilization.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Hunter,” the Director replied. “But I do look forward to reading your report.”

“I will make sure it’s on your desk by tomorrow night,” Hunter said as she stood up and picked up the whip. “I would like to request permission to hand the whip over to Yama so that he may dispose of it.”

“Request denied,” the Director replied. “You know where to put it.”

The call ended and Hunter took the whip and exited her office. Making her way to the north wing of the headquarters she approached a large steel vault. She entered a code, then lowered her mask for a retinal scan before the door opened and she entered the large, airtight chamber, the home for many other “spoils of war.”

She set the coiled whip down on an empty pedestal and then made her way back to her private bedroom. Stripping off her uniform, she took a long, hot shower, but found no joy in it. When she finished, she dried off, donned a white tank-top and a pair of black yoga pants, and sighed at the sight of the newspaper she received yesterday.

Jason Canmore had just been sentenced. Despite pleading guilty, despite saving Elisa Maza’s life, he was still sentenced to fifteen years in Riker’s Island. Terrorism, over a hundred accounts of assault on police officers, and a slew of other sentences. She held her hand over her eyes, but she did not cry.

Figuring that the rest of the squad had returned to base by now, Hunter left her room, walked down the hall and knocked on a door. Dingo opened the door and smiled at the sight of her.

“Well, fancy seeing you here again,” he said with a grin. She said nothing, and just entered.

“Something wrong, boss?” he asked.

But Hunter pulled his head down towards hers and just kissed him. After a moment, she let go. “No, nothing.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Manhattan General**

“So far you’ve pulled through quite nicely.” Dr. Sato said. “But I’m afraid you’re going to need a new hip.”

“I’ve had worse things happen to me,” said Mr. Jaffe.

“And of course we’ll be happy to pay for all of your medical expenses,” John Castaway said, as he leaned against the wall, Banquo and Fleance flanking him. “We always take care of our wounded.”

“Can I just be alone for a little while?” Jaffe asked.

“Of course,” Castaway replied. He waved as he left the room. “I am certain that we will speak shortly.”

“That’s awfully generous of you, Mr. Castaway,” Banquo said as they walked down the hall.

“Pity that he didn’t die,” Castaway said. “An upstanding pillar of the community like Mr. Jaffe would have made for an excellent martyr.”

The elevator doors opened and Matt Bluestone exited, glaring at Castaway as the Quarrymen entered. The glare was returned in kind.

Matt made his way down the hall to Mr. Jaffe’s room. But Dr. Sato tried to usher him out. “I’m sorry, but he’s not seeing anyone right now.”

“I always have time for Matthew,” said Mr. Jaffe.

Matt pulled up a seat. “Good news, Mr. Jaffe. I pulled some strings and the city isn’t pressing charges.”

“Thank god,” Jaffe said.

“But tell me why,” Matt said. “Why did you join the Quarrymen?”

“I just wanted to protect people,” said Jaffe. “But my hood-wearing days are over.”

“If you needed protection, you could have just called me,” Matt said.

“Let me ask you a question,” said Jaffe. “Are the rumors true. Are you running interference for the gargoyles?”

“I,” Matt looked around. The only other person in earshot was Dr. Sato. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”

The silence was deafening as Matt waited to hear the next words out of his old friend’s mouth.

“Then maybe I had them all wrong,” said Mr. Jaffe.

Just then the window opened and Elisa Maza slipped in. Goliath quickly followed, cloaking his wings and hanging his head in shame.

“Whoa,” Matt said. “What are you two doing here?”

Goliath slowly approached Mr. Jaffe’s bed. “I have come here to apologize,” he said. “For my assault on you. In my rage, I proved no better than what Castaway always said we are.”

Elisa smiled, but Matt was still stunned.

“I know that what I have done cannot be forgiven, but I wanted to tell you that it was your courage in the face of constant robbery that made me remember my purpose. To protect my community as you serve yours.” Goliath stopped. “I will go now.”

“Wait,” said Mr. Jaffe. “I accept your apology. And maybe I shouldn’t have jumped the gun and misjudged you.”

“I know that we may appear to be monsters to many of you,” said Goliath. “I did not mean to frighten you the other night.”

“I was stupid, too,” said Jaffe. “I should have talked to Matt first, or done anything else besides join the Quarrymen. But I am leaving the organization, and I plan to encourage others to leave, too.”

“I thank you,” said Goliath. “I only hope that we can do an iota of good for this city in return.”

“’Because six monsters just told me to,’” Jaffe mumbled.

“What?” Goliath asked.

“The way I see things now, you and your kind have already done a lot of good for the city,” said Jaffe. “Thank you.”

Goliath was taken aback as Mr. Jaffe reached out to him. He smiled and proceeded to shake the older man’s hand.

“For a brighter tomorrow,” said Goliath.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Paris**

Inside Nightstone Unlimited’s Paris headquarters, the offices were bustling with life, all under the watchful eye of the company’s Parisian director, Sandra Dumont. She sat at her desk, answering phone calls.

“No, I’m afraid that I do not know the current whereabouts of Mademoiselle Destine,” she answered. “Have you tried New York?”

Behind the office was a secret command center, just like the Manhattan headquarters. And also like the Manhattan headquarters, there were private chambers.

The room was mostly spartan, save for the stone statue of Hellhound and the four-poster, king-sized bed. Dominique Destine tossed and turned as she slept.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Demona soared through the clear night sky, over the Scottish Highlands. As she enjoyed the wind beneath her wings, her thigh was struck by a harpoon. Then her forearm. She gasped in fear as a legion of Hunters dragged her out of the sky down to the ground. She stared up at them. Every Hunter she had ever encountered, including the ones that she had killed.

“We’ve got the demon!” Gillecomgain shouted.

“Burn her!” exclaimed Fiona Canmore.

The Hunters all ignited torches, ready to set her ablaze when the ground started to shake. The shaking became rumbling as the soil beneath her erupted, forcing her back into the air.

The tower of earth morphed into a giant hand that closed around around the gargoyle, and pulled her up towards a gigantic feminine face. The face was harsh, pale blue skin, long white hair, and glowing white eyes that matched the hair. Demona quivered in fear as the face smiled ominously. Then a voice echoed throughout the land.

“Soon,” it said.

It let Demona go, and she cried out in terror as she fell towards the flames of the Hunters.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Dominique bolted upright in bed, hugging the blankets around her bare body. Cold sweat ran down her brow.

She breathed deep, labored breaths. The prospect of further sleep was terrifying.

  


**Never the End...**

**Featuring the voice talents of** :  
  
Ed Asner - Hudson  
Brigitte Bako - Angela  
Jim Belushi – Fang  
Jeff Bennett – Brooklyn, Matrix  
Xander Berkeley - Coldsteel  
Scott Cleverdon – John Castaway  
Jim Cummings – Dingo, Gillecomgain  
Keith David – Goliath, Officer Morgan  
William Devane – The Director  
Sheena Easton – Hunter/Robyn Canmore, Fiona Canmore  
Bill Fagerbakke – Broadway  
Matt Frewer - Jackal  
Charles Hallahan – Mr. Jaffe  
Lena Heady – Queen Mab  
Yuri Lowenthal - Nashville  
Ming Na – Katana  
John Rhys-Davies - Second  
Salli Richardson – Elisa Maza  
Marina Sirtis – Demona/Dominique Destine  
Cree Summer – Hyena  
B.J. Ward – Fleance  
David Warner – The Archmage  
Frank Welker – Bronx, Hellhound, Banquo  
Tom Wilson – Matt Bluestone

  


**Acknowledgments:** I would like to thank Todd Jensen for continuing to be my editor. He also had more of an influence on this story than my previous ones, as the dream sequences were loosely inspired from an idea he had in the Station Eight Comment Room way back in 1997. It made quite the impression on me at the time, and the imagery stuck with me all these years. Also, how about that cover art? Check out DTaina’s gallery on DeviantArt to see more. And, of course, don’t forget to check out Algernon84’s fanfiction, Masterdramon’s epic “Hawaiki” and Gryphinwyrm7’s “Bloodstone” and “Crystal Cave”.


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